


Haircut

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I have a lot of headcanons about Lance’s feelings when it comes to Keith’s hair, M/M, Poor Kiddo, but also heavy duty bubblegum, let my son have long hair!, short haired Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19032766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Keith gets gum in his hair and finds out exactly why Lance hates it.





	Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Keith’s hair looks like a slightly longer version of that one piece by inkymint

Their latest mission is a success, though the paladins are all less than thrilled. They’re all covered in what can only be described as industrial strength bubblegum. Allura sequesters them to a single part of the ship until they’ve all scrubbed it from their armor to keep it from spreading to undesirable locations. 

Keith struggles to remove his helmet, horrified to realize the stuff has gotten into his hair. It’s plastered to the side of his neck and he groans. 

“Ah come one, seriously?” He pokes tentatively at the mat, trying to keep from getting his fingers stuck. 

“Ooohhh.” Hunk winces as he sees the gum in Keith’s hair. “Don’t touch it man, you’re only gonna make it worse.” His hands flutter, shooing Keith’s away so he can lean side to side, examining the tangle of gum. “We’re gonna have to cut it out.” 

Keith makes a face and Lance cackles. “Oh man, you mean we have to cut the mullet?” Keith scowls, his cheeks darkening. 

Hunk picks delicately as Keith’s hair, trying to assess the damage. 

“Yeah, wow that’s a mess. Do we have scissors?” he asks, looking around at the others. 

Pidge shrugs and Lance looks pleased as punch, raising his hand. 

“I do.” He looks absolutely delighted. 

“Do you think you can do something about this?” Hunk asks and Keith jerks his head away from Hunk’s careful hands. “Why Lance? Can’t someone else do it?” He does not whine but it’s a near thing. “Why not you? Or Pidge?” 

“Um, excuse me, but do any of you even know how to properly cut hair?” Lance looks around at all of them. No one answers. “No?” He grins smugly, turning back to Keith. “That’s why. Plus I have a kit in my bathroom.”

“No, no way.” Keith shakes his head adamantly, only making his predicament worse. “You are not getting anywhere near my hair with a pair of scissors.”

Lance shrugs lazily, standing up from the couch, leaving his armor in a pile on the floor. “Your choice. You can either let me cut it out,” he says, heading for the door, “or you can let the gremlins shave your head.” He gestures to Pidge and Hunk, Pidge grinning wickedly and Keith scowls. After pouting for a moment he stands up, arms crossed over his chest, looking put out.

“Fine,” he grinds out, following after Lance who smirks triumphantly. 

~

He leads Keith to his room, snatching a chair from the dining room as he goes. He sets up in the bathroom as Keith pulls off his armor, dumping it in his own room as they pass by. 

“Have a seat.” Lance pats the chair and Keith begrudgingly flops down. “Let’s take a look at the damage.” 

When Lance is able to get a close up look at the gum sticking to Keith’s hair and neck he winces. It’s clumped into the dark strands, mangling it and Lance frowns, tapping at the gum. He nearly gets his finger stuck and his frown deepens. 

“Damn that’s really in there,” he mutters to himself, clucking his tongue as he thinks. He stands up and separates Keith’s hair, clipping back what hasn’t been caught up in the gum and to keep it out of the way. 

He grabs the solvent Coran gave him for cleaning their armor and a cotton swab. “Okay, now that we’ve got the rest of your hair out of the way, first things first. We gotta get this stuff off your skin. If we’re really lucky it’ll take it out of your hair.”

“And if we’re not?” Keith asks darkly, still pouting in the chair. 

“Then I guess you’re getting a haircut Mullet.” Keith scowls but Lance gets to work. 

In spite of his blithe attitude Lance is surprisingly patient and gentle, carefully loosening up the gum on Keith’s neck as gently as he can. He apologizes every time Keith winces and backs off, adding more solvent until there’s more give. He still ends up leaving a big red mark behind anyway and frowns in disapproval. 

“Damn you have sensitive skin,” he mutters, stroking over the red spot and dabbing away the extra solvent with a cloth. He grabs a bottle from the counter and uncaps it, carefully lifting away the disaster he’s working to fix, and smooths the moisturizer into the irritated skin. 

Keith turns to look at him, ready to ask what he’s doing but Lance slaps a hand to to his head to make him stop. 

“Do not,” he snaps. “You’re gonna make it worse.” Keith finally stops struggling and sits still, Lance’s grip on his head softening. 

“I’m trying to salvage as much of your hair as I can and you moving around is only going to get more of it caught in this shit.” He purses his lips and glares, finally removing his hand when he’s sure Keith isn’t going to try turning his head again. Then goes back to applying the cream to Keith’s neck. 

“What is that?”

“Moisturizer. It’ll help with the redness.” He frowns, studying the mark the gum has left behind. “I didn’t realize it was going to hurt that bad.” His tone is apologetic. 

Keith shifts awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Lance reaches for a loose powder, uncapping it and grabbing a small brush. He applies the powder carefully to the gum, trying to cut some of the stick. 

“The hell is that?” Keith wrinkles his nose, trying to move away again and Lance puts a hand on top of Keith’s head like he’s one of his nieflings refusing to hold still. 

“Translucent powder. I’m hoping it’ll keep any more of your hair from getting stuck before I can cut this stuff out.” Keith’s hair winds up covered in a thick veil that makes him look like he’s been doused in baby powder. With the rest of his hair pinned up into a chaotic mess sticking up at all angles, the horrific mat, his deep scowl, and the powder, Lance has never seen anything funnier. If he didn’t think Keith would kill him for it he’d take a picture. And Keith looks absolutely miserable which takes some of the amusement out of it. Lance remembers getting gum caught in his hair as a kid and has mercy.

“Can’t say the same for your suit though.” 

He stands up and stares down at Keith’s undersuit, his mouth twisting sideways. 

“I don’t think the solvent’s going to get it out either.” He says it more to himself than Keith. 

“We could barely get it off your skin. And it doesn’t seem to be helping where it’s caught in your hair.” He looks at Keith apologetically. “Sorry buddy. Gonna have to cut it out. Of both your hair and the material.”

Keith scowls. “I don’t want you anywhere near my neck with scissors.” 

“Just don’t move and I won’t cut you,” he says lightly, reaching for the shears. “Easy as that.” 

Keith’s eyes narrow and he frowns but he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“Now hold still.” Keith stiffens but doesn’t pull away as Lance slides his fingers under Keith’s collar. They’re coated in more of the solvent so he doesn’t get stuck and carefully starts cutting through the material, using his fingers as a barrier. He moves Keith’s head gently as needed until he’s managed to remove the gum, a thick patch of fabric stuck to it. The knot of gum, hair, fabric, and powder hang in a thick clump from Keith’s hair, tangled and pathetic looking.

Keith looks miserable and Lance smiles sympathetically, meeting his surly expression in the mirror. When he’d gotten gum in his hair they’d had to shave his head to get it out and Lance felt as miserable as Keith looks now. 

“You ready?”

“No.” 

Lance raises an eyebrow and waits, the shears held aloft. 

Keith huffs, sinking further into the chair and sulking. “Just do it.” 

Lance spends the next few minutes carefully clipping away the gum, trying to use the solvent to make it release at least some of its hold. It feels like a useless endeavor but he tries anyway. He lets the tuined bits fall to the floor in a dirty heap until he can run his fingers smoothly through the strands. He spends several minutes looking for hidden clumps until he’s satisfied, powder and solvent caked to his fingers but the gum seems to be out. 

“There, all done.” He flicks the white clumps from his fingers, picking it out of Keith’s hair as best he can. 

Keith has been staring at the floor the entire time and finally glances up at the mirror. 

When he sees the jagged edge of his hair, now much shorter than before, he looks devastated. Lance sees him bite the inside of his cheek, arms tightening over his chest and he turns to glare at the wall. 

Lance leans on the back of the chair, trying to get Keith to look at him in the mirror. 

“Hey.” Keith glances at him from the corner of his eyes and Lance’s expression is soft. “It’s not gonna be as bad as you think. I do actually know what I’m doing.”

Keith doesn’t say anything but the tension in his shoulders eases, if only a little. 

“Now come on,” Lance says brightly, “time to wash you.” He smacks Keith on the shoulder. “Turn around.” 

Keith makes a face but does so, turning to sit on the chair backwards and Lance folds up a towel. 

“Lean back.”

“Why?”

“So I can wash your hair. Now stop fussing.” He pulls out the clips and puts the towel under Keith’s neck for comfort and support, tucking Keith’s ruined hair into the sink. Grabbing shampoo and a deep conditioner he adjusts Keith until he’s as comfortable as can be and proceeds to wash his hair. 

“Let me know if the water gets too hot or too cold okay?” Keith grunts as Lance finishes temperature testing and scoops water into Keith’s hair until it’s soaked through, the powder rinsing away.

Keith closes his eyes after a moment as Lance pours shampoo into his hand, working it into Keith’s thick hair. Between the warm water and the feeling of Lance’s hands in his hair he begins to relax, sighing contentedly. Lance smiles, letting Keith revel in the sensation and Lance indulges him. He scrubs his fingers over Keith’s scalp, taking his time rinsing out the solvent and then working conditioner into Keith’s hair. 

“Has anyone ever washed your hair before?” he asks softly and Keith opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling. 

“No.” His voice is just as soft and Lance’s forehead creases. He works the conditioner into Keith’s hair a little longer than he needs to, humming quietly.

By the time he’s done Keith is half asleep and Lance is smiling to himself. He can’t remember ever seeing Keith so relaxed but he can’t keep doing this forever. He shuts off the water and Keith opens his eyes.

“Time to clean up the mess I made of your hair,” Lance says, squeezing out the water before helping Keith sit up, catching the dripping ends in a towel. 

He wraps Keith’s head, patting his hair dry before carefully starting to brush it out. 

Keith is quiet as he does, staring at his reflection in the mirror. 

“How much am I gonna lose?” he asks, giving Lance pause. He leans around Keith and looks at the jagged cuts on the side of Keith’s head to the undamaged hair opposite, mentally assessing what he has to work with. 

“Less than you think but more than you’d like.” 

Keith makes an unhappy noise and Lance goes back to running the brush through his hair, trying to soothe, before picking up a comb and the shears. 

“Why are you helping me?” Keith asks, a crease between his eyebrows. 

“Because your hair deserves better treatment than this.”

Keith frowns. “You hate my hair.”

“No no,” Lance corrects, lifting a finger. “I hate that you butcher it.” His tone is scathing and he waves his brush around threateningly. “It looks like you’ve been sawing away at it with a damn knife for six years.” He runs his fingers through Keith’s hair, water beading on his hands and rolling away, still dripping from the ends. He tutts in disapproval.

When Keith doesn’t answer Lance looks up, horror dawning on him as his hands fall still. 

“You did not.”

“I didn’t have scissors!” Keith defends, his cheeks red as he sinks into the chair. 

Lance groans, taking a deep breath and begging for patience as he stares at the ceiling. 

“Boy,” he mutters. “You are killing me. You have gorgeous hair.” He groans, shaking his head. “It’s a shame you don’t take better care of it.” 

Keith shifts awkwardly as Lance fusses. “There was never anyone around to teach me,” he says softly. 

Lance’s fingers still and he meets Keith’s eyes in the mirror. He frowns thoughtfully, rolling the damaged ends between his fingers. He hadn’t thought that maybe Keith wasn’t a heathen who didn’t care enough to maintain his hair. It hasn’t occurred to him that maybe Keith didn’t know how. 

“Would you like to?” Lance tips his head to the side, watching him. 

Keith shrugs noncommittally and looks away, his cheeks still warm. It wasn’t a no. 

Lance nods to himself and grabs a hair mask and some shampoo out of the shower, setting them on the counter. 

“That’s shampoo to help with frizzing and damage,” he says, pointing to the taller of the two bottles. “It’ll help control some of this chaos you’ve got going on and heal some of your damage.”

“I know what shampoo is,” Keith grumbles but Lance ignores him, pointing to the mask.

“That’s to deep condition and moisturize. Use it once a week focusing on the ends of your hair, not the roots of it’ll make you oily,” he warns. “Leave it in for thirty minutes or ten with heat so your hair can absorb it. And stop washing your hair every day. You don’t need it and you’re just making it worse. You’re stripping the good oils out of your hair.” 

Keith stares at the bottles, blinking dumbly. “You’re giving them to me?” He peers up at Lance who just shrugs.

“Sure, why not? You have no idea what to look for when it comes to maintenance yet or what your hair needs. I do. I’ll just grab something from the next space mall until I can teach you what you need.”

Keith frowns. “Don’t you need them?”

Lance’s expression is withering. “If you think those are the only two hair products I own you are sorely underestimating me.” He pats Keith on the head again. “Besides, look at you,” he teases, lifting the hair on either side of Keith’s head, showing off the jagged edges. “I think you need it more than me.”

“Oh fuck off.” Keith scowls but there’s a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

Lance laughs and turns back to actually helping, pleased by the smile.

“If you want I can give you layers. Help with some of this volume.” He ruffles Keith’s hair with both hands. “Which is really not fair. I’d kill for your waves,” he mourns. He continues to finger comb Keith’s hair which is starting to dry.

“What, jealous your hair is straighter than you are?” Keith throws back, starting to feel better. 

Lance gasps, the hand with the brush pressed over his heart. “Excuse you. I will have you know I have the most insane curls you’ve ever seen.” He sticks his nose in the air, sniffing derisively.

Keith turns to look at him in surprise. “You do?”

Lance blinks at him, surprised by the genuine curiosity and interest, dropping his dramatic stance.

“Well yeah. I used to straighten it to keep them in line but since coming up here I’ve had to keep it short instead.”

Keith’s eyes flick up to Lance’s hair.

“Shame,” he says softly, like he doesn’t mean to. 

Lance scoffs, his cheeks red. “Says the boy who’s never had to deal with curl chaos.”

Keith is staring intently, trying to imagine Lance with curls. 

Lance’s eyebrows lift into his hairline at the intensity of Keith’s focus and he clears his throat, rapidly changing the subject. 

“Also, double excuse you.” He grins, putting his fingers on Keith’s head to get him to turn around. “I’m as straight as your hair.” 

Keith nearly chokes, startling a laugh out of Lance. “What?”

“I’m bi.” Laughter makes his voice lilt and his eyes are sparkling. Keith struggles to breathe, his own cheeks bright red. 

“I-I didn’t know that.”

Lance shrugs, brushing Keith’s hair out to give him something to do with his hands. “Yeah well I don’t exactly advertise. The Garrison wasn’t the most progressive place to be out.”

Keith dips his head to the side. “Yeah that’s fair. I know Shiro got a lot of flack for it which is why I never bothered to come out either. Not that it was anyone else’s business.”

Lance is left reeling. “Wait, you’re bi?”

Keith makes a face. “No I’m gay.” 

Lance blinks dumbly. “Huh. Wow is my radar off.” He shakes his head, trying to get them back on track and ignoring the way his heart perks up with interest at that newest tidbit of information. 

“So, I can try to keep as much of the length on there as you want, but I’d like to trim the bangs up if that’s okay.” Keith watches him in the mirror, accepting the subject change and Lance goes back to fussing with his hair, avoiding his eyes.

“It’ll balance it out more for when you grow it out. I mean, I’m assuming you want to grow it out. Why do you wear it so long anyway? It’s always in your face.” He runs his fingers through Keith’s hair, swiping it back from his forehead. 

“I like it long,” he mutters. 

“No, you like to hide behind it,” Lance corrects. He grins at Keith in the mirror, dark hair still swept back from his face. “Can’t tell what you’re thinking under all this.” He ruffles Keith’s hair again, fluffing it up and trying to forget how good Keith had looked with it pulled back. 

“I do not.”

“Yes you do.” Lance picks up the shears and begins to clean up the hack job he did. “I’d like to cut out some of your damage too. I can see your split ends a mile away.” He shakes his head, tutting under his breath. 

“I don’t even know what that means.”

To his surprise Lance drops what he’s doing and comes around to kneel next to Keith, pulling a lock of black hair forward to show him. 

“These here.” He points out the frayed strands of Keith’s hair. “Those are split ends. They’re literally split.”

Keith studies the strands intently. He’d never noticed before but Lance is right. Keith hadn’t thought something that small could split. 

“What causes them?”

Lance shrugs, releasing Keith’s hair. “Daily wear and tear, heat, cold wind. For me it’s the straightener. The high heat damages my hair and I have to be really careful to take care of it. You?” He stands up, stepping behind Keith again. “Probably living out in that desert for a year. Didn’t really do you any favors.” He narrows his eyes, tugging on a lock of hair scoldingly. “Neither did the knife.” 

“Ow!” Keith spins around, rubbing at his scalp.

“Sit still,” Lance scolds, shoving at him until he does. He hides a smile at Keith’s pout, refusing to admit it’s cute. 

He studies Keith’s hair before setting back to work, cutting in layers and evening it out. He removes as much of the damage as he can while maintaining as much of the length as possible. 

In the end Keith’s bangs are much shorter, curling around his cheeks and his natural waves have room to move with the layers. His hair sits up around his jaw now, tapering around his neck  Lance keeps getting distracted by the smooth swath of skin. His fingers trace idly over Keith’s neck before he can stop it. Keith reddens and Lance snatches his hand back, blushing. 

“Oh! I have just the thing.” Lance scrambles for a salt water spray, hurrying away to try and hide how warm his cheeks are. He fumbles the bottle before bringing it back to the sink and spritzes it over Keith’s hair, touseling it. 

“What is it?”

L ance passes him the bottle. “Salt water! For that sexy beachy look.” He grins, tousling Keith’s hair, letting it curl around and through his fingers as it dries. 

“Bring some more life to those waves.” Keith studies himself in the mirror, taking in the new cut and as the silence stretches Lance’s anxiety builds. 

“Do you hate it?” he asks, expression falling. 

Keith turns his head from side to side, assessing. He hasn’t had his hair short for years. 

“No,” he says eventually. “It’s just different.” He runs a hand over the back of his neck, feeling exposed, touching the same spot Lance had. “It’s a lot lighter.” He tugs on a lock before running his fingers back through his hair, his eyes wide. 

“It’s soft.” He says it like he can’t believe it and Lance laughs. 

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you take care of it.” He sets the spray bottle on the sink next to the others and brushes the fallen hair from Keith’s shoulders. “You can keep that too.”

“You don’t need it?”

“With my curls?” Lance clucks his tongue. “Nah. Mostly I just keep it for the smell. Reminds me of home.” 

“Oh.” Keith meets Lance’s eyes in the mirror. “Thank you.” 

Lance nods. “Now go take a shower, do not wash your hair,” he says firmly, wagging a finger at Keith. “But if you don’t shower you’re gonna itch like a motherfucker. I should have put a towel around your neck before I got started.” He picks at rogue bits of hair on Keith’s neck. “Sorry,” he winces. 

Keith stands from the chair, collecting the products Lance has laid out for him. 

“But you just put product in it.”

Lance’s smile is indulgent. “It’s just salt water. And I wasn’t sure you’d like the feel of it anyway. This way you can rinse it out of if you don’t like it.”

Keith pouts for a moment, thinking. “I do.” He runs his fingers through his hair again and smiles. He doesn’t mention that he likes the idea of smelling like something that reminds Lance of home. 

Lance goes pink and ducks his head. 

“Good,” he says awkwardly. “It looks good.” He moves the chair out of the way and fusses, beginning to collect the scattered remains of Keith’s hair strewn about the floor. 

“Now shoo. Out of my bathroom so I can clean up.” He waves Keith towards the door. 

He pauses, the products gathered in his arms as Lance putts abouts, just watching him for a minute. 

“Lance?”

“Hmm?”

When Lance looks up Keith gives a shallow nod. “Thank you.” He says it with more gravity than Lance thinks a haircut deserves but he thinks he knows what Keith means. 

“You’re welcome.” His grin is lopsided. “It really does look good,” he reassures.

Keith reaches up and touches his hair self-consciously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

Keith tries to hide a smile before ducking out of the room and Lance goes back to sweeping up hair. He doesn’t stop smiling the entire time. 

After that Lance lets his hair grow out and pretends it’s because he wants to, not because Keith said he liked it. 


End file.
